“

Here I am sitting on a plane, again, writing, again.
With strangers sitting on either sides of me.
Strangers with millions of untold stories and untapped potential.
Filled to the brim with their own variety of sadness.
Backs breaking under the suffocating weight of their own trials.

Eyes that itch from exhaustion, yearning to be reunited with family, friends, lovers, whomever. The last thing they want is to be sitting in a plane for four hours surrounded by a bunch of strangers. Some of them are probably wondering how they’ll ever get their taxes done in time, while others are dreaming of the smell of their sheets at home. Who knows why they are even on this god awful plane, because of business, death, moving, love, college, or possibly running away.

Whatever the reason may be, they’re still stuck on some plane, headed to Portland, that reeks of peanuts and stale pretzels. 
In the end, all anyone is really trying to do is make it to our final destination. You know? Like finding out what our destiny is really mapped out to be. Just simply striving to strike a happiness gold mine. Yet, we still tread on others who essentially have the same goal we all do. We keep our car windows rolled up, hands gripping so tight on the steering wheel that our knuckles turn white, keeping our gaze locked on something in the horizon, to avoid the homeless man, with three kids, begging for money to feed them.

The human instinct is to put yourself before everyone else. And I just think that’s utterly heartbreaking.

”

—

-a.w